


TripleF: Fall Food Fest

by AgentSilverchase



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Cameos, Festivals, Food Trucks, Gen, Humor, Thematic Thursday, t3event
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-05 03:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14608563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentSilverchase/pseuds/AgentSilverchase
Summary: Judy and Nick explore international cuisines while patrolling Summit Street, the most flavorful street in Zootopia. (Thematic Thursday 48: Festivals, Conventions, Expos)





	1. Finally, a Favorable Fate

  
  


”Higgins, McHorn! Tooth Avenue barricade.” Bogo was giving out the evening’s assignments. These were not the usual ones he gave out. “Grizzoli, Snarlov! Nail Boulevard barricade.” The four named mammals rose from their seats and exited the bullpen.

“Fangmeyer, Hopps, Wilde, Wolfard! Congratulations.” The four turned to look at each other, wondering what the chief had for them.

“Foot patrol.”

Excited, Judy made a single, full-body twitch, quickly suppressing the urge to binky out of the chair she and Nick were standing on. Her sudden jerk startled Nick, who yelped and flinched in response.

”You’ll be switching with the previous shift at 8 PM. Two of you take the half of Summit Street close to Tooth and the other two take the other half near Nail. Dismissed.”

Finally. It had been three years since she moved to Zootopia, and she at last got an opportunity to see the festival for herself. She had always heard of how awesome the event was and how big a moment it was on Zootopia’s tourism calendar. She missed the one on her first year in the city because she was still recovering from a leg injury, and missed her second because she spent that week banished to the records dungeon for a shrimp-related accident she and Nick caused in the precinct cafeteria.

Knowing Nick, this obviously wasn’t his first time going, but it was definitely his first time earning money (legally) while doing so. Getting paid to enjoy himself and eat food was a rare kind of job and/or con.

The rabbit and the fox couldn’t wait for their shift to begin.


	2. Feeling Fine on Summit

Under a quickly darkening sky, Judy and Nick approached the festival entrance at the corner of Summit and Tooth. High above, between the old brick buildings typical of the edge of downtown, hung a banner, which read, “TripleF / Zootopia Fall Food Festival” in bold white letters on a red background. A row of roadblocks as well as a hippo and a rhino in ZPD uniforms barred vehicular traffic into Summit Street. Cars were kept away from the segment of Summit between Tooth and Nail in order to make room in the street festival for pedestrians, who could come and go freely.

TripleF celebrated the great diversity of cuisines that define Zootopian culture. Foods, both traditional and remixed, from all over the world made their way into the city through the mammals that came to live there. A mammal could go every year and still find a totally new kind of dish to try each time.

Waiting before the pedestrian entrance, Judy looked down Summit Street and saw two rows of food trucks, each row on the edge of the road and facing the other, with light smatterings of mammals on the road walking back and forth, to and from, around and between them. Some were reaching down to collect their food from shorter food crew mammals, while others took lightweight elevators or stepped up on stools to reach the service windows above them. Some of the trucks were even multiscale, with windows at different sizes and heights to accommodate more size classes more naturally. There was the occasional circular crowd of mammals, all gathered together to spectate a street performer. Some mammals were enjoying their food while walking over to the next truck, some while sitting on the sidewalk or on public benches, and some while seated at the patios of those restaurants that offered it to festivalgoers (with purchase of a drink, of course).

TripleF had grown to be even more vibrant since the first time she learned of it, from a picture in a 2003 Zootopia travel guide. She had convinced herself that she absolutely had to visit if she wanted to become a real Zootopian, and now it was right in front of her. The din of a streetful of live music struck her ears, and a mix of familiar and exotic aromas, both local and faraway, drifted to her nose; the pictures could never get across this experience.

Seeing the bunny beside him awestruck at the sight gave Nick the impulse to tease her. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for your whole life? Street food? There weren’t any streets where you lived in Bunnyburrow?”

Judy rolled her eyes. “Come on, Nick. Life in Bunnyburrow’s too slow-paced for any kind of exciting street food. You’d just get carrots and cabbage in everything.”

Nick drew his head back in disgust, sticking his tongue out in a “yuck” grimace. “Ugh. How have your taste buds not died of boredom yet?”

“Well, if Francine and Delgato don’t tag us in soon, that may very well happen.”

Right on schedule, the lion and elephant police officers met Judy and Nick in front of the Tooth Avenue barricade at 8 o’clock. As they crossed paths with the rabbit and the fox, they shared with them some of their personal highlights of this year’s selection. The cabbage leaves stuffed with spiced rice. Mm. The max-dressed deluxe tacos. Oh yeah.

It was now the much smaller duo’s turn to patrol Summit Street. As they proceeded past the barricade, a moose at one of the festival info booths cheerfully called out to them and waved them over. “Hey, officers!”

Attention grabbed, the two cops took a detour over to his booth on the roadside, climbing the access ramp up to the booth table’s ledge, so they would come at least a bit closer to eye level with the moose. Planting her paws on her hips and facing up to the moose towering above her, Judy spoke up proudly as an officer of the ZPD.

“Hello, sir. What can we help you with?”

“Well, if you two are just starting your shifts, you can help _yourselves_ to a food pass! You’ll need one to get a bite at any of the food trucks here at TripleF. Simplifies pricing and payments for every size of mammal, you know.” The moose waved to the eight colorful stacks of cards he kept on his table. Each stack of cards was colored differently; there were two for each of the four size classes, and each pair was then subdivided into white and black frames, for dietary preferences. “And as thanks for all you guys’ work, we thought we’d give them free to police officers!”

Nick eagerly held a paw outstretched for his free pass. He got paid, _and_ the food was free? “Then don’t mind if I do- _ooof-!_ ” Judy’s right elbow was at the perfect height to poke into his gut.

“ _Actually_ , it’s not like we’re above any of the other festivalgoers here. We’re visitors, too. We’ll pay for the passes. _I insist._ ” Judy’s glare towards Nick was pointier than her elbow.

Judy paid the $18 for her blue and black “small prey” pass, while Nick, disappointed to be missing out on free value, pawed over $20 for a blue and white “small predator” one. High-protein foods tended to be a little more expensive because only a niche, but persistent, market demanded it. Their cards had four spaces along the bottom that food truck staff would punch a hole into in exchange for a serving of their offerings.

Judy and Nick thanked the moose for the passes and hopped off of the table, resuming their patrol down Summit Street. An evening of lively festival air awaited Judy. An evening of deliciously diverse food awaited Nick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Fixed a logic error that I totally put in there as a test to see if you were reading. Congratulations to PseudoFox.
>   * Also took this opportunity to describe scenery more.
> 



	3. Foxy Fumble

It had been an hour into their patrol, and there hadn’t really been anything of note to report on. Not surprising, given that the day’s activity would be lowest at this hour. Diurnal mammals mostly visited around midday and afternoon, and the ones here in the evening were now beginning to disperse. Nocturnal mammals were starting to trickle in, but it would still be some time until nocturnal busy hours would begin.

Accordingly, Judy and Nick observed the crews of some of the food trucks rotating to night shifts, taking advantage of this lull in foot traffic to restock and to bring in new staff to survive the night. The food crews had already turned on their decorative lights, lamps, and lanterns, painting their installations and the street in various colors and patterns. Each truck had small, plain white lights shining onto their sides, illuminating their menus — one for prey, one for predators, and sometimes a third for either.

The two officers leisurely strolled down Summit Street, witnessing the nocturnal side of Zootopian life blossom around them. Judy vigilantly watched the mammals that walked by, ready to respond to any trouble that could arise here. She loved the atmosphere at TripleF, but she still had a job to do. She briefly glanced towards her partner, preparing to ask him if he saw anything—

Of course. Nick was distractedly eyeing the menus as they went above and past his head. The lazy smile on his snout sometimes widened briefly as he saw something that looked appealing. He could really be a kit in a grownup’s body, sometimes.

“Quit staring at the menus, Nick,” scolded the rabbit, slightly annoyed. “You should be paying more attention while we’re on duty.”

“Oh, I absolutely am paying attention, Officer Hopps,” Nick retorted, feigning offense at her reproach. “Paying attention to what I want to spend my four food credits on in our end of Summit. I have a tasty night ahead of me.”

“Did you even have anything to eat before we started our shift?”

“An empty stomach brings out the flavor, Fluff! Unlike you, I came prepared to patrol at TripleF.”

Judy sighed. “We can browse menus and take a food break later. We’re here to keep the place safe, Nick, not to eat.”

Nick drew in a breath and raised a digit, ready to deliver a crisp one-liner response to the rabbit’s comment, when their portable radio interrupted him with a bleep.

“Hey, Hopps! Wilde!” Wolfard’s voice came through. By his cheery, informal tone and disregard of radio procedure, Judy inferred that he was enjoying himself over on his and Fangmeyer’s end of the street. “Got any happenings to report from your side?”

Judy raised the radio and thumbed the talk key. “Negative, Wolfard. But I do have with me a hungry fox on the prowl for his next meal. Wilde forgot to eat a meal before starting his shift. Over.”

“Oh, nice! The food tastes better when you’re hungry!” Wolfard apparently knew and approved of Nick’s strategy. Nick deflected Judy’s glare with a smirk and a shrug. “I gotta report how  _ criminally _ good the food at this one stand—Dolsot—is. It’s this boiling hot cabbage and shellfish stew, and it’s fantastic. They cook it out of a stone pot!”

Judy pressed the talk key again, about to remind Wolfard to keep the radio open for important communications, when Nick recoiled slightly at the mention of Wolfard’s food. “Ugh. Cabbage?”

“I know, right?” Wolfard apparently overheard Nick’s comment. “I’ve never heard of a pred who liked cabbage before, but wow, I’ll gladly be the first one. Anyway, we better keep the frequency clear. Share any nice spots you two come across on your side! We can switch sides later!” Bleep.

Judy was confused about why Wolfard sounded so jubilant about just some cabbage. She asked her partner for clarification. “Did I miss something? What’s wrong with cabbage?”

Nick shut his eyes in discomfort, looking away from her. “Ugh. Don’t make me think of that nasty stuff. I hate it. I’ve hated it since I was a kit.”

Now it was her turn to bring the smug. “Aw, what did the mean green leaf do to young Nicky? Were you scared?”

“No, no!” He hastily shook his head. “I wasn’t scared. I was just… apprehensive.”

“Sooo, yeah. You were scared. Big bad omnivore fell to the leafy menace?”

Nick sighed in exasperation, not enjoying being on the receiving end of the snark. “Look, Ca- Flu- Ho- Judy. I never liked the taste of it to begin with, and my mom always made me eat it when it was on the plate, which only reinforced my dislike for it. Cabbage and I don’t get along, especially after— Uh.” He promptly cut off his own sentence with a cough, having nearly gone a bit too far with his explanation. “Yeah. Cabbage and I don’t get along.”

Judy caught his slip-up, and would not let go of the topic. “Especially after what?”

“Uhh, what?” Nick was apprehensive of where Judy was dragging the conversation.

“You said you hated cabbage, especially after something happened to you.” She wore his own smirk quite well. “Let it out, Wilde.”

He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply. He opened his eyes again, looking into Judy’s own, breathed out heavily, and, despite not wanting another mammal to know the story, reluctantly complied. “Fine. When I was a kit, I… choked on a mouthful of coleslaw while sneezing.”

Pause. They stopped walking. “That’s it?”

“That’s the whole story.”

The bunny couldn’t help but laugh at how terse, yet silly his reason was for disliking cabbage. Unamused, the fox stood still, weary eyes gazing straight over her head and far down the way they came. Not even his rumbling, empty stomach could ever make him forgive the taste of cabbage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Judy tries something with an oddly familiar origin. Nick tries something with a mysterious origin. 
> 
> _"Do mammals generally survive eating this?"_


	4. Familiarly Frigid

Bleep. “Tooth patrol, Tooth patrol.” Higgins came on the radio. Judy flushed out the residual giggles from her system and calmed herself with a deep breath.

“Hopps here. Go a-ahead.” She fought to contain the laughter bubbling up again. Nick wondered when she’d be able to get over his embarrassing anecdote.

“We got a large-class van here at the barricade that needs to get to lot 19T for restocking. You guys make sure that the space next to the lot is clear of anything or anyone.” 

Suddenly having something to do other than walk around, Judy and Nick forgot about their little conversation and raised their heads, scanning around for the lot in question.

Back facing Tooth Avenue, left-paw side… Thirteen, fifteen, seventeen… Nineteen! Judy found their food stand. “Roger. We’re heading over now.” She lightly swatted Nick’s arm with the back of her paw, directing his attention to the target food truck with an extended digit.

“Me and McHorn are opening up the barriers now,” Higgins confirmed. “Stand by for a large blue van.” Bleep.

With that, the two officers began to make their way over to lot 19T. As they approached the food truck installed there, Judy heard the stomach of the fox behind her emit a rumble. Turning back to look at Nick, she saw him contentedly swinging his tail slowly back and forth.

“Huh. Didn’t know Émile brought his food truck here this year.”

“Oh, you know the guy?” Although slightly intrigued, Judy really only asked as a formality. Nick’s whole “knowing everybody” thing came up in unexpected ways.

“Yep. And this is  _ La Cabane d’Émile _ ,” he explained, gesturing towards the large-class food truck. “If you find yourself hungry in central Tundratown, Émile’s truck is where you go. He usually parks it near Glacier Falls Station, and with all the major ZTA lines running by there on the day schedule, he gets insane business during diurnal rush hour.”

The food truck—which was, in Judy’s opinion, rather tackily painted to look like a wood cabin—had all of its interior and exterior lights on, but appeared to have no one inside. With no lineup at the service window, the two of them went right up to it and hopped up onto the stool underneath. Nick reached over the counter to press the small “ring for service” bell. It produced a dainty little  _ ding _ .

A brief moment later, they heard a deep, metallic  **clang** in response, followed by an angry shout (probably some vulgar word in whatever language that was). A small black paw came up to grip the counter ledge, and a black-furred squirrel climbed up into view, rubbing the top of his head. From his elevated position, he looked up to find nobody there, before he scanned downwards and spotted Nick’s head and shoulders up at the counter. Upon seeing who came to ring the bell, his face lit up and he extended both arms towards the fox.

“Yooo, Nicky!” The exuberant squirrel spoke with a hint of an accent that Judy couldn’t pinpoint. “Nice to see yer face again! And you’re in yer nice clothes, huh?”

“Hey, Émile! The Real Deal! Didn’t know you managed to escape Tundratown to park at TripleF.” Nick lazily lifted a paw in greeting. “What about all the starving mammals at Glacier Falls?”

“Oh, you didn’t ‘ear the news, Nicky? Me, I got a new place! It’s got no wheels and still no inside seating! La Cabane, now, it’s an  _ actual  _ cabin beside Squall Road! That means that now, I can move this rust box around!” Émile patted the side of his truck’s window.

Nick laughed warmly, genuinely glad for the squirrel’s achievement. “Oh, that’s great. Moving up in the city, then. How’s it been selling edible joy to the rest of Zootopia?”

“Oh, it’s been great, y’know! ‘Ere, my very first day parked out of Tundratown, I got lotsa curious mammals who weren’t prepared to have their minds and tongues blown!” His tail quivered in delight, its fluff pushing against the net he wore on it. “And you, my friendly fox?”

“Oh, you know, life has to be good when it’s TripleF weekend. We’re on the job tonight.” Nick gave a shrug accompanied with a slight sideways nod towards the bunny beside him, acting as audience to his chat with the squirrel.

Émile, with a slight start, only now realized that there was someone with Nick. “Oh! Bringing da friends and family to meet ancient Émile, huh?” Punctuating his question with a hearty chuckle, he crossed the counter ledge to address Judy. “And you, oh, please excuse me! I shoulda introduced myself more early. Émile Labranche. Nick and I did much legal business together.”

Assuming that last sentence didn’t mean anything more, Judy reached up for a cordial pawshake. “Judy Hopps! I’m his partner on the force. We actually came over because you have a van coming in soon for restocking. Your lot needs needs a clear space so it doesn’t block the rest of the road.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. That, I already knew! It’s coming right behind you two!” A laugh bubbled up into Émile’s words as he pointed slightly off to the side.

Wait, it’s already here? How long did they spend chatting with him?

Judy’s gaze snapped onto Nick’s, before they turned around to see what Émile was pointing at. A large blue van rolled sluggishly towards lot 19T, with the few pedestrians currently out at this hour parting to make way for it. The two officers hopped off the stool and scrambled over to the sidewalk to make room for the van to park.

Once it was parked with its back facing the sidewalk, a caribou disembarked from the shotgun seat, going over to the trunk of the vehicle to unload. He waved at the two cops who stood by the front corner of the blue van. “Hey, thanks for the help, officers. Think you two could help out with hauling in over 30 kilograms of stuff?” Smirking slightly at his little joke, he opened up the back. A cloud of cold vapor billowed out of the back and onto the street as the caribou reached in. With a struggle, he pulled a bulky insulated crate out of the trunk and put it on the ground. He shut the trunk door and patted the vehicle. “Alright, Maddy, you’re good to go!”

With the van slowly leaving for Tooth Avenue, the caribou lifted up the clearly very hefty crate in his hooves and lumbered over to the door of La Cabane. Turning his back to the opening, he lowered his head and stepped backwards into Émile’s food truck to avoid bumping into anything in the relatively cramped (for him) interior. Puzzled at why Émile needed to restock on such a huge amount of specifically one thing, the rabbit intently watched the caribou as he disappeared into the kitchen section.

The caribou’s voice, strained from carrying the box, sounded slightly muffled from the outside. “ _Oof_. Hey, Émile. I’m bringing a delivery and a night shift.”

#### Thud!

Judy felt the ground under her feet shudder somewhat.

“Heyyy, Adrian! You showed up right on damn time! I was almost all out of snow!” The loudly upbeat squirrel greeted the caribou with an implausibly large laugh for someone of his size. He retrieved a wide, shallow container and set it on the interior counter. Beside the squirrel, Adrian came up to the service window, picked up a scoop rivaling the squirrel’s own size, and began shoveling snow out from the crate and into the container.

Judy’s eyebrows lifted and her head tilted slightly. “Snow?” She looked over at her partner, wondering if he understood what that was all about. The crooked smirk on his stupid muzzle stretched further upon seeing her perplexed. He absolutely knew, but wanted her to find out on her own.

Adrian chuckled. “Heh, yup. We collected it fresh right in front of the climate wall, so it’s totally food-safe.”

“Wait, you’re serving the  _ snow _ ?” His explanation didn’t help much. She jumped up onto the stool again to reach the counter, but didn’t see edible snow on any of the menus.

After a brief pause, he identified the rabbit’s misunderstanding and clarified further with a small chuckle. “Oh, no, not exactly. More like… we use the snow to make the thing.”

Émile hopped past the window and onto the exterior counter. He skipped sideways and pointed to a line on the “Anyone” menu posted beside the counter. “Yeah, Adrian’s talking about  _ that _ , da maple taffy. It’s a candy made of maple sap, and we make it right in front of yer eyes!”

That only raised more questions for Judy. What does snow have to do with making candy? Is the snow part of the candy? What’s the snow for? Why not a fridge? Freezer? How does—

“While you wonder about that, Carrots, I think I’ll get something for my poor stomach.” Nick’s sudden presence beside her on the stool abruptly pulled her out of her thoughts. “You know, Émile, I’m really hungry. I haven’t eaten all  _ day _ ! But boy, am I glad you’re here this year.”

“Staying hungry so my stuff tastes da best, huh? Smart strategy, Nicky!”

“You know it.” Nick held up his blue and white festival pass to the squirrel. “I’ll have the usual. Like I used to get. With chicken gravy.”

“The usual for little Nicky! Coming right up!” Émile grabbed Nick’s pass and placed it under a desk-mounted hole puncher. He lifted a foot and stomped down to put a hole through the first of four spaces on Nick’s card. Returning the pass, he went into the kitchen to prepare Nick’s food.

“I’m not too hungry right now, but you’ve made me curious.” Judy made up her mind. She offered her blue and black pass to the caribou. “Could I get the set of three maple taffies, please?”

_ Ch-clunk _ . Judy took back her freshly pierced card. In the corner of her vision, she saw some movement from her partner. He really enjoys teasing her, doesn’t he?

Nick’s smug smirk returned.

“What?”

“Watch.” He gestured to Adrian.

The caribou dragged the back of his scoop across the snow, forming three shallow pits. He grabbed a pot off the stove behind him and removed the lid, releasing a plume of hot steam. He plunged in a ladle and lifted out a spoonful of boiling hot maple sap.

Nick lurched forward slightly, paw covering his smile.

Carefully bringing the ladle over one of the snow pits, Adrian slowly tipped it over. A thin line of hot maple sap poured out of the ladle and pooled into the trench below. Once he filled the first snow pit, he moved on to the second, then the third, doing the same to each.

With the sap poured, the caribou waited for it to cool on the snow and for the hot vapor to dissipate. The rabbit, eagerly awaiting the next step in the candy-making process, watched tacitly.

Nick shook slightly, trying to conceal his silent laughter.

After around a minute of waiting, the sap finally chilled, becoming slightly darker and more viscous. Taking three small-class flat wooden sticks, Adrian dropped a stick onto each spot of chilled sap. One by one, he twirled the sticks like a fork in spaghetti. The sap stuck to the sticks as they rolled, forming a small, amber-colored bulb at the end of each one. With all three sticks in his large hoof, he presented them to Judy, ready to enjoy.

Oh. That’s what they were. Maple pawpsicles.

Nick couldn’t contain his laughter.

* * *

Judy had plenty to be miffed about. The sap still stuck behind her buck teeth. Nick’s sometimes impossible attitude. His dubious dietary choices.

“…And that’s how I got that trick from our squirrel friend. I just took a traditional snack and gave it a… locally sourced twist!” Nick stabbed his plastic fork—slightly too large for a fox—into the paper food box in his other paw. He fished out a slimy bundle of fries and cheese curds, a coating of dark brown gravy dripping off in heavy globs.

“Uh, do mammals generally survive eating this?” That goop looked gross. She wondered if it could suddenly wake up and demand mammal rights.

A greasy cheese curd landed on his shirt. “I’d rather die eating poutine than cabbage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: a taste from far away, and a favourite from close by.  
>  _“We’re here to eat food, not stare.”_


End file.
